


Every Year I Tried, Every Year I Lied

by mxstyassasxin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxstyassasxin/pseuds/mxstyassasxin
Summary: In the three years immediately following the war, Harry and Draco find themselves witholding the truth about their own feelings but as they begin to work together, they find it harder to keep lying.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 112





	Every Year I Tried, Every Year I Lied

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Harry's birthday and my initial idea got away from me slightly and kind of ended up in case-fic territory. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think and you can always come and say hi on tumblr at [@mxstyassasxin](https://mxstyassasxin.tumblr.com)
> 
> Much love xx

The parchment stayed blank for a long time after Potter had returned his wand. It had been there on his desk since the evening of his own birthday, a few hours after Potter had approached him in the Apothecary of all places and held his wand out; the wand that Potter had snatched from his grip in his own home – not that it had been any home to him at that moment in time. Draco had stared at it a moment, held comfortably between the calloused fingers of _The Saviour_ , before snatching it himself. A perfunctory nod at Potter and a quick turn on his heel and he was gone, wand back in hand.

The fact that he hadn’t said anything grated on him, because he knew there was much to be said between the two of them. So he had laid a piece of parchment down on his desk, in his bedroom, waiting for him to write the words down. It had taken the arrival of Potter’s own birthday for that to finally happen.

He used his words, first and foremost, to thank Potter for returning his wand, but then the thankfulness continued to spill onto the page. Thankful that he and his mother were not in Azkaban. Thankful that his father was. Thankful for coming back for him in the Room of Hidden Things. Thankful that Potter had lived so he was able to save them all, to save everything, from the Dark Lord.

But that was a lie. Not a total lie, because he _was_ thankful that Potter had saved them. Except, Draco knew there were other reasons that he was thankful for Potter’s individual survival, reasons that he refused to delve into. He was quite content with them bubbling away beneath the surface.

X - X - X

Was that really… Harry had to do a double take. Because strolling through the Ministry corridors towards him was Draco Sodding Malfoy who, for all Harry knew, should have been at Hogwarts revising for his NEWTs like Hermione.

As they passed each other with equal nods of acknowledgement, Harry remembered what date it was, and that on this day last year, he had returned Draco his wand. He turned to look after the retreating blonde, hair looking much softer than it had at school, and opened his mouth to shout. He faltered a moment, closing his mouth again as he thought whether it was appropriate to shout _Happy Birthday_ in the Ministry corridors, and then opened it once more when he decided it would be best just to get his attention first.

“Malfoy!” Draco turned slowly with a tilt to his head and a quirked eyebrow as if to say, _“Me?”_.

_Yes, you_ , Harry thought with a roll of his eyes as he jogged up to him.

“I just, well, I wanted to… How’s your day going?” Harry tried to smile normally at him but felt the gesture had failed by the look on Draco’s face. “And Happy Birthday, by the way. At least I hope it’s happy.” What was he saying? He wished the floor would open up beneath him.

“Thank you, Potter,” Draco said formally after clearing his throat. “It is quite a pleasant one this year. I’ve just finished interviewing with your department and they don’t see why I can’t begin training at the end of July. Depending on my exam results of course.”

“Of course,” Harry nodded numbly, still trying to take in the news that he would be working in the same department as Draco Malfoy. “I mean, congratulations! I’ll be pleased to work alongside you.”

“I hope you’re not just saying that, Potter,” Draco scowled at him.

“No! God, no. Of course not! I _will_ be pleased. You’ve got a good way of thinking for it. You’re creative and strategic as well as logical. And I know you can be quick with your wand.”

Harry told himself it wasn’t a lie as he smiled at Draco. Not really. Because all that _was_ true about Draco. It just wasn’t the most important reason why Harry would be pleased to work alongside him.

X - X - X

Draco stepped out of the shower, much needed after a long training session, and wrapped a towel around his waist before rolling the knots out of his shoulders that the hot water had missed. His wet hair was dripping down over his eyes as he rolled his neck, but he knew the way by now from the shower across the room to his locker.

What he didn’t count on was the voice that spoke from the direction of another locker slightly to his right. His sure steps faltered but he couldn’t stop lest the git pay any particular attention to his chest.

“Oh, Draco. Sorry, didn’t know you were in here.” At least it sounded as though one of them had a smile on their face.

He carried on quickly towards his locker and his clothes, his skin feeling flusher than it had in the heat of the shower.

“It’s alright, Potter. We’ll get used to bumping into one another, I’m sure,” he drawled, praising Merlin, Circe and Morgana when his voice sounded unaffected.

He kept his back to Potter while he buttoned up a crisp white shirt and pulled on a pair of black briefs, then turned around only to see Potter pulling on a polo shirt. His eyes grew wide and he shut them quickly, gaining a hold on himself. Since when did the man have abs!

He shook himself lightly from his sudden stupor when he realised that Potter had started speaking again and pulled his eyes up from the now-cotton-covered muscles.

“So I’m meeting a few people at the Leaky. You want to come?” Potter was saying and Draco had the feeling that he had missed something somewhere. He felt his brow furrow and saw Potter roll his eyes. “You know, birthday and all that? Drinks. Leaky. Would you like to join us?”

“Um, no. Thank you, Potter, but I probably shouldn’t, and I have a prior engagement anyway. Best wishes though.” He tried to smile but the outright lie he’d just told had settled painfully in the pit of his stomach. He was surprised it hadn’t gotten stuck in his throat because there definitely was no prior engagement, and no one usually cared either way. But here was Harry Potter looking at him like he cared and Salazar, that didn’t help with the guilt.

How could he, in good conscience, go with Potter and be around his friends without ruining their fun. Without ruining his birthday. Especially when he wouldn’t be able to get the image of some well-toned abs out of his mind.

X - X - X

Harry stared at the prone form in the hospital bed as he had been doing every day for the past week. “ _Asleep_ ,” the healers kept telling him. _“He’s just sleeping and he’ll wake up when he feels ready. That was a pretty intense curse he took._ ”

Yeah, Harry kept berating himself. A pretty intense curse that was meant for me. And it was Draco’s bloody birthday. If he wasn’t going to wake up today, when else would he.

Deep down he knew he was being petty and that Draco being alive after saving his life was much more important to focus on than the fact that he wouldn’t bloody wake up on his own birthday. But Harry needed him to wake up. His own recovery from the ambush was over and he was being sent on another case, with Ron this time, and it sounded like a long one.

He couldn’t leave without speaking to Draco, without thanking him, without saying… Well, he hadn’t quite figured out what to say, but it was Draco’s birthday for crying out loud and he couldn’t just disappear without letting Draco know.

Realising that he would have to try and put it down in writing, Harry summoned a self-inking quill and a piece of parchment, one that ended up with too many lines through it to even bother leaving for Draco to read. He summoned parchment after parchment, never quite getting the wording right. Being unable to express himself properly; frustrating himself until he gave up and lied.

He told Draco, _thank you_. That he wished he could have told him in person, but he had to go away on a case. That he hoped Draco would wake up soon and that he hoped to be able to see him awake when he gets back. There was more. Harry knew that there was, but it didn’t make it onto the page.

Not being very practised at writing letters that important, Harry reverted to something he remembered being taught about letter writing in primary school, signing the letter off with _Yours, gratefully_. Those two words felt right. More right than any other two words written on that pitiful piece of parchment, so he left it at that.

Folding it up and placing it in Draco’s hand with a whispered _Happy Birthday_ , Harry squeezed the long, pale fingers once and walked out of the room

X - X - X

“Sir, tell me where he is,” Draco, a junior Auror of one year, demanded from Robards. He had kept his mouth shut the first week, then the second week, even the first month went by without Draco saying anything. But they had been gone far too long for everything to be going right, and Draco was worried, panicked even.

“You already know I can’t do that Auror Malfoy. I’ve told you all that I can.”

“You’ve told me shit.”

“Malfoy,” Robards warned.

“We work well together, Sir. We both know how the other works and it allows us to see the different parts of the puzzle. There could be something missing that only I can see. A link that they haven’t noticed in their observations. It will be beneficial to the department to let me join them.”

Draco told himself that it wasn’t a lie, that Potter was right about his way of thinking when they bumped into each other just over a year ago. But he knew it wasn’t the reason for demanding that Robards send him wherever they are, and he was pretty sure that Robards knew it too. But Draco just stared him down until he got what he wanted. He had yet to relinquish all his pretentiousness.

“You haven’t long been cleared for service again, Malfoy.”

“I am aware, Sir,” Draco acknowledged without removing his gaze and, a few moments later, it paid off because Robards gave a long sigh.

“You will have to read the briefing first, in here so I know you’ve done so. It has all the initial intelligence as well as the updates sent in by Aurors Potter and Weasley. Last contact was ten days ago.”

“Ten days!” Draco practically exploded but closed his eyes and took five deep, steadying breaths. “Alright. Assuming intel is ten days out of date.”

Robards nodded at him with an impressed smirk on his face before handing him a red docket.

“You’re heading to Serbia. The international Wizarding community has been keeping an eye on the situation out there following the breakup of Yugoslavia. It recently came to our attention that there are some magical influences at play interfering with the decisions of the muggle armies. Some _dangerous_ magical influences. Considering their experiences, the European Coalition agreed that Aurors Potter and Weasley were best suited to infiltrate the situation, lay low, identify the target and extract them.”

“You sent them into another war?” Draco blinked incredulously. “Their _experiences_ ,” he hissed, “are those of child soldiers in a fight that the responsible adults ignored until it was too late.”

Robards narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything as Draco went back to reading the entirely useless docket. He was still seething when he finished and slapped it down on Robards’ desk.

“Get me a portkey. Now.”

The portkey sent him straight to the initial safe house which Draco already knew would be empty because they wouldn’t have gone quiet ten days ago if they were still there. It wasn’t anything fabulous – a three room, bare brick building on a rather barren hillside. He quickly set about searching for the warded compartment that housed maps and photographs of all the other safe houses in the area.

He could only hope that it would be this easy.

After studying the photos and locations carefully, Draco held one in his hands along with his wand and shoved the rest in a pocket on his left side before spinning away to the first safe house he’d chosen at random.

After a successful apparition, he put the information of that safe house in a pocket on his right side and cast a useful spell to reveal any recent magical signatures. Nothing.

Sighing, he took another random location out of his pocket and disapparated, casting the spell again when he landed in the correct place. Still nothing.

He tried again, and again until the fifth time, the spell caught something. The remains of some household magic; the ancient kind of family magic that you can only learn by owning a magical house. He scanned again for the trace and held it in his mind, expanding the signature not just for the type of spell, but specifically what it had been used for.

He saw it physically expanding. Someone acquainted with ancient household magic had literally expanded this safe house. Following that revelation, Draco covered every inch of the space, running his palms over the walls and floors and ceilings. Over the tops of cupboards and around doorways and window frames, seeking a particular tingle that he had felt in rooms throughout the Manor, left there from years of expansions and additions using this type of magic.

Eventually, he felt it, in the bottom of the bathtub of all places. Feeling very unlike himself, he climbed into the empty bathtub and sat cross-legged, bent forwards at the hips with his palms pressed against the cold surface; his face as close to it as he could manage.

“Potter?” He spoke quietly after a few deep breaths. “Potter, please. If you can hear me, let me in. Are you even in there? I don’t even know what house you own to be able to do this kind of magic. Some magical building must have let you in on this secret somehow. Or was it Weasley? Very possible with the way his place looks. Obviously, his parents know about it, but Weasley technically shouldn’t as the fifth, sixth, however many-eth child.

“No, I’m sure it’s not him so it has to be you, and you need to open up for me. It’s your birthday for Merlin’s sake, and I know I look utterly ridiculous right now but my Healer said that you sat waiting for me to wake up uttering complete nonsense all the time too, so I’m going to keep on talking until you come out of there because you wrote _Yours_. Why did you write _Yours_? And with a comma after it too? You must be aware of how that reads. Potter? Harry?”

After running out of air, Draco sat in silence for a moment, listening for the slightest sound. When he didn’t hear anything, he carried on speaking because he knew that this had to be it. He refused to give up hope. Especially when it came to Potter.

“I wouldn’t mind, you know. Being yours. So Happy Birthday!” Draco laughed drily. “You get _me_ of all things, if you want.”

He lifted his cold hands from the floor of the tub to cover his face and sighed, but it soon turned into a gasp as he felt the tub give way below him and he fell, landing on his knees with warm, calloused hands frantically checking him over.

“Draco? Draco? I couldn’t figure out how to undo the damn spell to let me out. I wanted a hiding place and the damn thing gave me a bloody good place to hide but then I couldn’t un-hide.” Draco uncovered his face and stared up at the green eyes smiling down at him.

“Potter?”

“And Ron’s the sixth child, just so you know,” the git chuckled, and Draco scrambled off his knees to pull him into a hug.

“You disappeared,” Draco pointlessly pointed out.

“I know,” Potter mumbled into Draco’s chest.

“They didn’t know where you were.”

“Well I’ve been stuck beneath a bathtub for however long it’s been. Wait? You said it was my birthday? It’s been that long?”

Draco pulled back and stared shocked into Harry’s face.

“You heard what I was saying? You heard _everything_ I said?”

“Yes, Draco. I heard everything you said,” Potter smiled warmly and looked down at their hands which had, at some point, joined together.

“And did you?” he swallowed before continuing, nervous for the answer. “Did you mean it like that?”

“Yes,” he began stroking his thumbs over Draco knuckles. “I meant it like that. I wouldn’t mind being yours either.”

And then Potter was leaning forwards, his eyes on Draco’s lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own. Draco took in a sharp breath and surged forwards, meeting Potter’s lips and sighing as they parted for him. His knees felt weak and for once, nothing felt like a lie. He wouldn’t have to lie about Potter, to himself, to others, to the man himself, ever again.

Too soon, Potter was pulling away, leaving a chaste kiss behind, his thumbs still stroking over Draco’s knuckles. He smiled, and Draco couldn’t help but smile back.

“Can we go and find Ron now? We had to split up and I have no idea where he went.”

“Sure, that’s why I’m here,” Draco smirked, allowing himself just one more lie.


End file.
